


Taking a Hit

by evilRevan



Category: GreedFall (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Blood, DS totally will give Kurt a whole head of grey hair with her antics, F/M, Female De Sardet (GreedFall), Fluff, Gore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-04
Updated: 2020-01-04
Packaged: 2021-02-26 04:55:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,823
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22112227
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/evilRevan/pseuds/evilRevan
Summary: Sometimes protecting someone else involves getting shot once or twice.
Relationships: Kurt/De Sardet (GreedFall)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 42
Collections: Happy Greedfall





	Taking a Hit

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sumi](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sumi/gifts).

> This is for Sumi for the holiday gift exchange for Greedfall! Hope you enjoy this! (Didn't get the chance to edit this so I am so sorry for any mistakes in this fic!)

The scent of gunpowder could barely mask the overwhelming smell of blood in the air. It lingered, heavy in the air as the ground underfoot greedily devoured the crimson fluid. Only a few battered and broken bodies remained crumpled up against the ground of the forest. Boots squelched in the muck, leather stained a dull rusty looking color as both blood and earth swirled together as bodies continue to add to the leaf litter.

Screeching metal echoed through the trees, the sounds of wildlife long since drowned out by both the loud crack of a gunshot and steel grinding against steel. 

Genevieve De Sardet fought in the middle of the chaos, her magic crackling in her left hand her right hand swinging a spiked mace into the skull of yet another moronic bandit attempting weave past her defenses. Bone shattered as the mace dug deep into the skull, cracking it wide open to reveal a mess of brain and shards of bone embedded within. Raising the mace back up with a grunt, it broke free of the crater it created, the body slumped to the ground as the unfortunate victim’s body convulsed and flopped around like a fish washed ashore.

It didn’t take long before the entire body went deathly still.

_Keep going._ De Sardet wordlessly repeated over and over in her mind. The broken battered corpse lying not even a foot away from her burned into her mind like a mantra; or something akin to the priests in Theleme chanting something from their holy figure, pushed the Legate further and further into the fray.

Swirling blue-green magic encompassed Genevieve’s hand. Swirls of black crawling up her fingertips as she focused as much as she could spare of her mana into her hand. 

“_Don’t get fancy Greenblood_!” Kurt’s voice boomed above the madness. His voice sharp, but tinged with a breathless quality attributed to high exertion. 

Twirling through two assailants a smirk spread across her lips. “And why would I try to be _fancy_ in battle?” There was a slightly teasing quality to her voice, a thrill snaking down her spine as she imagined Kurt trying to control the urge to snap back and give her that stony glare of his. 

“Don’t-” Genevieve felt her hand slam into the chest of one of her assailants, Kurt’s warning falling short as her magic began to sputter and crackle- an agonized scream ripped through the would attacker, his eyes wide as he stared helplessly at the hand sinking into his chest cavity. Genevieve held her breath as her magic burned through hide, skin, and bone as if she were liquid fire or hot magma. 

The young man tried to pry her hand off him, but couldn’t. The sheer shock of his flesh being melted away and his organs rupturing as his ribcage collapsed in on itself, left him weak. He could meekly grip her arm, gape, and… fall to the ground his mouth opening and closing as if trying to fill his destroyed lungs with air. In the end, he choked on his own blood.

Wordlessly De Sardet moved on to the next foe. Her movements were sluggish from using too much of her mana in that last attack. Something she always did. Add a bit too much flair. A bit too much mana used unnecessarily. 

_Don’t get fancy Greenblood_. Genevieve chuckled, blood splattering on her trousers and vest as she clipped a masked woman’s left arm. The spikes on the mace tore through enough of the armor to graze the skin beneath, droplets of blood slipping out through the tears in the armor. It slowed down the masked bandit, but only for a little while. Good enough for De Sardet.

Vivid green eyes swept over her left and right side, the sight of Vasco holding his own against a few thugs, one of whom seemed ready to drop with how his skin seemed to be the color of snow. Poison no doubt. 

To her right, Kurt seemed to be fine. From what she could tell from so far away. From afar Genevieve had a fantastic sight of Kurt hefted his large claymore through the air as if it were just a twig, how his muscles tensed and relaxed beneath his gambeson...

Sharp pain shattered her shameless observations. Blood seeped out from her upper thigh, her foe slicing through the thick leather and down to the skin. It was shallow, not even an inch deep from the feel of it- but it hurt.

The young woman readied her mace in retaliation. A distinct click drifted under the current of chaos. It was like a whisper. Quiet and cautious.

Genevieve hesitated for a split second, vibrant emerald green eyes scanning the battlefield for the source of the gunman. Off to the side, at the edge of the conflict, she saw him. In his arms was a rifle, the scope lined up to his right eye as he aimed directly to her right: the exact location where Kurt was fighting. 

There was a chill running along her spine, frigid and unwelcoming as fear and concern took hold. Her stomach twisted into knots at the thought of the shot connecting. Of losing Kurt.

Evading her current foe was hard. Harder still was dashing across the mess of bodies and the slick ground underfoot as she ran- her body acting before her brain could process the entire situation. De Sardet knew. 

She had to interrupt the shot.

Magic began to build up all around her body. A tingling sensation washing over her skin as it manifested itself into a swirling mess of colors ranging from reds to greens around her hand. Unlike before it was unbound, a big bright mass of colors meant to someone’s attention.

Time seemed to slow down as the dangerous ball of colorful magic trailed through the middle of the conflict, the gunman’s attention shifting ever so slowly in the Legate’s direction, the barrel of the gun inching further from the right and more towards the center.

With a snarl Genevieve pushing her legs further, sprinting down the center as fast as she could, “Over here!” She shouted, her voice rising above the sounds of battle pounding in her eardrums.

There was a loud deafening crack followed by someone shouting in the background. Debilitating pain radiated from her right shoulder, growing considerably stronger as did the scent of copper filling her nose. With a grimace, she ignored it all. Burning eyes focused on the man in front of her, his rifle left on the ground as he tried to grab a sword strapped to his belt. 

He was too slow. Her mace swung down hard into his arm. Bones crunched under the impact as he cried out. The arm was twisted at an odd angle, bone popping out from the skin. The gunman tried to cradle against his chest but her mace came down again, this time into his chest. Armor tore, skin split and bled, and bones cracked under the intensity of the swing. 

Blood ran over the man’s thin lips, rivets of crimson trailing down his chin and neck- his eyes going wide before his body eventually gave out.

All around her Genevieve could only stay locked in place, dazed and lightheaded as her magic sputtered like a dying flame around her. It flickered in the breeze before finally, it went out. 

Everything hurt. It was a searing pain skittering across the skin. Even the slightest movement caused her vision to go white for a brief moment, a strangled cry slipping through her cracked lips.

The world around her spun. Everything melded into one in her eyes. Nothing looked right. Tiny beads of sweat trickled over her eyes, the salt mixed in causing them to sting and burn. 

Everything hurt. But she couldn’t move.

A faint shape dashed across her vision, startling her. But she didn’t move. The pain was too great to think of much else besides preventing it from getting worse. And that was becoming harder to do with each passing moment.

Something touched her arm and she screamed. The searing pain raced across her entire body, starting from her shoulder and snaking downwards towards her toes. Air seemed harder to acquire as she floundered around trying to get oxygen into her system. But it didn’t seem to help.

Pale blue eyes appeared out of the mess of shapes and sounds. They were Kurt’s eyes. Bright and full of life.

Genevieve felt a smile tug at the corners of her mouth before the world plunged into darkness.

\----

Genevieve awoke to the sounds of waves crashing against the rocks outside, the cries of gulls, and the distant sounds of people shuffling about. 

“Ugh.” She groaned, opening her eyes only to shut them again as the bright light blinded her. 

Something in the background creaked and groaned in response, something shifted around beside her, a rough callous hand pressing into the side of her face. It gently caressed her cheek, slowly and cautiously, like handling an expensive dinner plate or teacup.

“Thank the stars above.” Kurt’s voice filled the silence. His voice quiet and soft, concern and fear leaking into both his touches and tone of voice. 

Reluctantly Genevieve cracked open one of her eyes to see Kurt’s form looming over the side of her bed, his armor discarded and left on the ground of her room in New Serene. There were some small cuts on his arms and one peeking out from the collar of his tunic running south under the fabric, but nothing life-threatening.

Genevieve breathed a sigh of relief. “Thank the gods.” 

“Why did you do such a foolish thing, love?” His voice cracked just a bit, his hand still against her cheek.

“To protect you.”

“That’s my job, Vivie.” 

She sighed. “Yes it is. But as your lover, I am allowed to take a bullet to the shoulder for you.” There was a faint curse slipping out from his mouth, his palm drifting down to one of her hands lying by her side. He slid it over top, fingers slipping between hers before giving her a gentle squeeze. 

“You are going to be the death of me.”

“Always, Kurt.”

“Promise me you won’t do it again.”

“Only if you promise the same.” Dead silence. “Then no, I can’t sweetheart,” Genevieve replied to his answer. Or lack of. 

“I swear-” Genevieve laughed, “I’ll be the death of you?” Kurt glared down at her with his beautiful blue eyes. “No,” He leaned in closer, “You’re going to put me to an early grave.” He responded teasingly, squeezing her hand once more affectionately.

“Get some sleep Greenblood.”

“Only if you’re my nurse.” Genieve flashed him a brief mischievous smile. It fell as she felt a twinge of pain trickle through her as if in retaliation for her remarks. In the end, she relented. Falling asleep with Kurt's hand still entwined with hers.


End file.
